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where the conformity sees a

(blank page)

we see scarlet letters and ink
of hues unimaginable . those
who don't know what it's like
to fight origami dragons, thin
as wafts of ***** smoke, the
wings of which having the po-
wer to knock their worlds to
the next millennium and the
flaming jaws to crush chrod-
mum skulls to powder . those
stars of their scales tell tales .
of woe . the beat of their heat
like a tribal drum from Hades
but all the conformity sees is

(blank page)

we see billions of suns already
extinguished . wraiths of cloud
wrapping around the tip of our
pen . we see . android humans
and human ai's cannot . we are
given a unique ability as poets
we make something blank into
beauty . ugliness . banality into
exquisite expression . cheers!!!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 1/2/2016
I was inspired by the visual on
rebecca askew's homepage. I
love it!
Time: 7:30 pm
Temp.: 68F

~~~
overlooking the runways,
festooned by
accidental heavenly whimsy,
or humanistic whimsical inten-sity,
all the the planes and trucks are flashing
electrifying speckles, of eclectically synced
red and green

it is not my holiday,
but no matter,
like every New Yorker this day,
I am happily celebrating its
double U,
unique, unusual

"record breaking warmth"

yes, the Fahrenheit is outtasight, and by the dawn of
early eve~night,
the Centigrade is spiraling in reverse retrograde,
as the temp eases on down, just below seventy degrees,
on this dewinterized twenty fourth day of
December, two nought and fifteen

traffic is light, the terminal, an unbusy, slim shadow of itself,
the maddening crowds gone, now all are among
the dearly departed and either/or, the newly arrived

so composition of the observational, brings cheer and smiles to my faith,
(I mean my face),
the crowning quietude of clear skies, the absence of street smart
city  bustle and hustle,
the languid atmosphere at the gates,
(where seldom is heard an encouraging word)#
makes me reconsider the true meaning of
the au courant phraseology of this day

"record breaking warmth"

for there is indeed
a calm invisible warmth suffusing all tonite,
chests glowing from fireplaces within,
contentment chamber containers in both hearth and heart,
and I am thinking
miracle,
about all the human warmth
on this celebrated evening,
holy night

indeed,
it is breaking records of
recorded human fusion,
the united commonality of millions warming
his and her stories world-over,
that your personal poet is
warming to record
# but not tonight, as I am
unbelievably,
upgraded!
A wildflower painting,
Hung up on the wall,
No room to let it feel the sun,
Or grow up big and tall.

The colors still boasted brightly,
Of heavenly blue and pink,
But all that time on the wall gave the wildflower time to think.

About why it wasn't like the other flowers,
The ones outside in the heat,
The ones with chances to see the world and grace new people's feet.

About why the rain always hit the petals, so delicate and sweet,
Of the wildflowers outside that she never got to meet.

A wildflower painting hung up on the wall,
Turned out to not be such a wildflower at all.
Christmas is love in action.
Everytime we give or love
its Christmas

When we offer a hand
to a neighbor or friend,
or show kindness to a stranger


It means so much more,
than any present...
It makes you feel all warm inside

That warmth is passed to those you touch,
and from there it grows and spreads


like pixie dust.
Its the best time of year...
Love is the air,
the spirit of giving,
being nice and
spending time with your family & friends.

*The most precious gift you can give
or receive doesn't come from a
box beneath the Christmas tree,
it comes from within a loving heart.
Merry (early) Christmas! :D <3
Copyright 2015
Passion in the midst,
Hunger is what it is.
Determined to make a change.
Scared for those in pain.
Pride wont let them stop,
Fighting with all they have got.
Acceptance of what is right.
Freedom for those in plight.
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